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Poem

Hubris makes me wait
For something better
Which is all the poisonous tundra
That my mind can take today
So, let begin, the parade
Streaming displays
Traversing
Through crowded gawkers
Who sing and cling
To verses, euphonic notions
Of melodies and maladies
Only recognizable to an audience
Of unknown disparity, such as they
And where am I
Among the spectacular?
And what am I
Sans a vat of grilled confetti
Noshing tastelessness
A fine wine, mute of
Spirit, grape and love?
So I tell you
Hope not bore you
I am lathered
In luscious deep directive
Pleased and patient
Marinate do I on
Probable emphatic winds
Maybe delaying inevitability
Yet the flavor gains momentum
Pungency stings with fire
Latent explosions
Gathering steam for the journey
Ah, but to where
And with who
And will I know I'm there once arrived
Do signs filter the highways
Breathing life into the air
Do crumbs resemble putrid possibilities
Forming jagged lines that need
Hindsight to impose the vistas
Magnificent vistas
Thomas Kinkade-manufactured plastic vistas
With colors and images, vibrant like
Disney cartoons, Fiestaware and
Ethnic displays of solidarity
Though color will go and
I will follow
As each hue, speaking eloquently
To the rods and cones which make them so
Evokes my mind, my worth
My simple plan to live
To descend
In ways that
Most journeys
Lose themselves
In ways, I suppose
That many may be unable
To reconcile
Fallen by guile
At least temporarily
Until my essence
At ease and defined
In a fractured moment of humanity
Is found once again
At the destination
My point of departure.

(10/15/04)

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